Billionaire’s Ex-wife : Craving You

Chapter 119

HAZEL

PRESENT TIME

On the fifth day, our anxious wait continues, and we remain in the dark without any tangible news or updates. The detective. handling David’s case has yet to share any information with us. In an attempt to gain some insight, Ravel made a call to the detective today, seeking clarification on the progress of the investigation. The detective, in response, offered assurance that he would visit us later this evening to provide the long-awaited update. Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

My trust in David has waned significantly, prompting me to make a crucial decision. I’ve taken the step of transferring the responsibility for business decisions to Agatha. In all honesty, I find myself in a state of me ntal disarray, making it impractical for me to be the one making important choices regarding my business affairs. It’s for this reason that I’ve opted to place my trust in Agatha to handle these crucial matters.

In contrast, Ravel is taking a hands-on approach to the management of his business affairs. While he’s currently not engaged in the creation of new jewelry sketch designs, he holds the primary responsibility for making critical business decisions, often in conjunction with Raymond. It’s evident that Raymond doesn’t possess an in-depth knowledge of the intricacies of Ravel’s business operations. Consequently, they engage in late-night discussions to bridge this knowledge gap. Each night, their discussions culminate in a plan of action that Raymond diligently puts into motion the following day.

What’s particularly considerate about Ravel’s approach is his discretion when it comes to business matters in my presence. He goes to great lengths to avoid bringing up business discussions or taking business calls while I’m around. It’s only when he thinks I’ve drifted off into slumber that he quietly slips out to the balcony, where he can converse with Raymond in privacy.

After luxuriating in a refreshing shower, I opted to change into a more comfortable ensemble. Dressed in cozy attire, Iset off on a quest to locate Ravel. Eventually, I stumbled upon him in the garden, basking in the serene ambiance with a glass of wine in hand.

With a heavy sigh, I took a moment to compose myself, then slowly approached him, letting my hand gently encircle his. waist. My voice was hushed as I asked, “Are you okay?”

He inhaled deeply, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine, before he turned, his strong arms enveloping me in a reassuring embrace. “I’m fine,” he replied, though his eyes betrayed the facade. He nuzzled the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply, a small moment of solace amidst the uncertainty. “You smell nice,” he murmured, a genuine compliment amidst the tension.

I mustered a tight smile, attempting to infuse some levity into the moment for his sake. I recognized that he was carrying his own burdens in this situation. “Well, I did just have a shower, so smelling nice is part of the deal,” I playfully quipped. “But speaking of showers, maybe you should consider a cold one, and, dare I say it, a haircut.”

His laughter was a welcome sound, a brief respite from the heaviness of the situation. “Personal grooming isn’t quite at the top of my priorities right now,” he admitted, drawing back slightly to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “What do you think about an early dinner? You ski pped lunch today, and it’s essential to keep your energy up.”

Despite my diminished appetite, which had seemingly vanished alongside the void left by our daughter’s absence, I felt at strong urge to provide Ravel with one less concern to bear. “I’ll take care of the cooking,” I mused softly, “What would you like to eat?”

His eyes darted about in contemplation, considering the question. Before he could respond, our conversation was abruptly interrupted by Daisy’s nanny. “I apologize for the interruption, ma’am, but the detective has arrived.”

My heart quickened at the prospect of potentially positive news. “We’ll attend to him shortly,” I assured her with gratitude in my voice, and she nodded before retreating. Ravel attempted to guide me away to deal with the detective, but I firmly grasped his hand, halting his progress. “Ravel, you don’t need to conceal your emotions from me. You have every right to grieve and express your feelings, and I want to share that burden with you.”

His gaze bore into me with a raw intensity, a reflection of the depths of his emotions. My hand, trembling ever so slightly, rose to gently cup his cheek, a tender gesture that seemed to unleash a torrent of feelings within him. Tears gathered in the

corners of his eyes, their steady descent mirroring the silent, heavy rain of his pain. Without hesitation, I guided his head to rest upon my shoulder, offering him the comfort of my embrace. He clung to me, and in that moment, he sobbed uncontrollably, each heave of his shoulders a release of the anguish that had been festering within.

For a full minute, I remained there, the steady rhythm of my hand stroking his back acting as a soothing balm for his wounded spirit. “I miss her,” he croaked out, his voice breaking with the weight of his sorrow. “I miss her so intensely that it feels as if I’m slowly losing my mind.”

My heart ached in perfect resonance with his words. I understood that feeling all too well. At times, it seemed as though I could still hear her laughter and the sound of her cries, as if her giggles still reverberated within her room. But when I mustered the courage to step inside, all that greeted me was the oppressive and cold silence, a stark reminder of her absence that echoed in the very depths of my soul.

“We’re going to find her, aren’t we?” he whispered, his voice quivering with vulnerability, and the raw emotion in his words. threatened to bring tears to my eyes. “She’s going to come back to us, right?”

Gently grasping his cheek, I nodded, doing my best to muster strength for both of us in that fragile moment. “She will most definitely come back to us, Ravel. Never doubt that.”

He nodded in response, biting his lower lip as he tried to regain composure. I reached up, using my thumb to wipe away the lingering traces of his tears. “Now, let’s go find out what the detective has to say about David.”

Nodding once more, he wiped the rest of his tears away, and a faint chuckle escaped him. “I’m grateful to have a strong woman like you, Hazel.”

I couldn’t help but grin widely in response. “I know, right?” I took his hand and led him toward the living room. Just before we entered the living room, he wiped away all traces of his tears, expertly concealing his emotions behind his usual mask of cold and unyielding demeanor.

The detective, a picture of professionalism, had risen from his chair to greet us, a gesture that conveyed respect. “Good evening, Mr. Southwark,” he addressed Ravel, who responded with a crisp nod. We assumed our positions on the sofa, positioning ourselves directly in front of the detective before he took his seat.

“In the course of my investigation involving David,” he began, leaning forward slightly, “I conducted a series of inquiries about you, to which he provided responses. When I delved into his relationship with Mr. Southwark, he stated that he neither categorized it as a friendship nor enmity.”

Restlessness crept over me, and I couldn’t suppress my impatience. “And what about his connection to June?”

Maintaining his professional demeanor, the detective continued, “In regard to that, he asserted that he lacks a significant closeness with Ms. June. Nevertheless, he did acknowledge that she visited him at his residence yesterday, seeking insights into Mr. Southwark’s emotional state.”

I couldn’t help but scoff at the explanation. “And what stopped her from simply asking him directly?” I mused aloud, skepticism apparent. “June has never been one to respect boundaries, so what prompted this sudden change?”

my

The detective, maintaining his calm, relayed David’s side of the story. “According to David, he posed the same question to her, and her rationale was that she and Mr. Southwark had a mutual agreement not to communicate, and she didn’t want to risk breaking that agreement, as she was uncertain about how you would react.”

I turned to Ravel, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “Did you really have such an agreement with her?” He nodded. “So she went over to his place to ask him about you? Since when did she assume he would have any insight into how you’re feeling?” I questioned with exasperation, my frustration nearly driving me to pull at my hair. “I don’t know about you, detective, but I’m not buying this story.”

The detective’s agreement was clear. “I don’t buy it either,” he acknowledged. “That’s precisely why I’ve deployed some of my men to keep a close eye on both David and June. If they engage in any suspicious activity, it will be promptly reported to

me.”

“That’s reassuring,” I replied, my heart heavy with the hope that Ravel wasn’t involved in our daughter’s disappearance. The mere thought of such betrayal was almost unbearable.

“For the time being, you’ll have to exercise caution around him,”

The detective’s words brought my attention back to the moment. I found myself staring at the bracelet he had gifted me on my last birthday. It felt like a stark contrast to our current situation, a reminder of how things had taken a turn for the worse

between us.

My phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket, and I quickly retrieved it. When I saw the caller’s name, I raised the phone to Ravel’s face. “It’s Rigger. I think he might have some information about David.”

“Answer it and put it on speaker,” the detective advised.

With a swipe of my thumb, I accepted the call and placed it on loudspeaker. “Hello, Rigger.”